


The Chosen One

by theminiummark



Series: Tumblr Prompt Ficlets [4]
Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: First Meetings, Friendship, Gen, Possibly Pre-Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-05
Updated: 2017-01-05
Packaged: 2018-09-15 01:49:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 528
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9213764
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theminiummark/pseuds/theminiummark
Summary: From the prompt: “I’m the Chosen One? Yeah, sure, maybe next week.” Sid/Ovi





	

**Author's Note:**

> This may have been done already, but this quote and this pairing was begging me to write this. I hope you don’t mind that I modified the quote a bit, as well!

Sid was tense with nervous anticipation. In a few minutes he would have a chance to _actually_ meet Alexander Ovechkin in person. Sid couldn’t help himself, he was so excited. He had heard of Ovechkin, of course he had, and Sid couldn’t help but love how the Russian winger skated, how he threw himself into the fight to win. 

Alright, so, he had a little bit of a hockey crush. And he wanted the chance to talk to Ovechkin face to face. 

When they finally had a chance to have a moment for just them, away from the cameras, microphones, and lights, Sid found himself shy. 

“Do you want to switch sweaters?” he blurted out, a blush staining his cheeks. He looked down at his jersey clutched tight in his hands, peeking up at Ovechkin through his lashes. Ovechkin was grinning broadly, unashamedly holding out his own jersey to Sid.

“Of course!” he exclaimed, making the switch when Sid extending his jersey in kind. Ovechkin held Sid’s jersey up to his chest, winking. “Seems like a good fit, no?”

Sid answered his grin, following Ovechkin’s example. “Looks good!”

They grinned at each other like fond idiots for a few minutes, before Sid got a hold of himself. 

“Oh, hey, you want to exchange phone numbers, too?”

If anything, Ovechkin’s grin got bigger. Sid didn’t know how it was possible, but it felt good to have caused it in any case. 

Sid left his first meeting with Ovechkin with a new jersey, a phone number, and a new friend.

~~

Sid didn’t have to wait a week before Ovechkin was taking advantage of the fact that he had Sid’s phone number. He called Sid about _everything._ At all hours of the day or night. 

Sid found he didn’t mind at all. In fact, he started finding that Alex (as he was told to call Ovechkin. At first, he ignored the request, and Alex hung up on him and wouldn’t pick up until Sid used Alex in his last, desperate voice mail.) was a kindred spirit. He understood Sid and the weight of expectations he has always been under, because he felt it too. 

“Alex, I wish they would just stop with all of the ‘Next One’, chosen one, bullshit,” Sid sighed one night, curled up under his sheets after a game that felt long, but was one of the hardest grinds Sid had skated since being drafted. And then the questions. Always the same thing, or insinuating the same. “It’s really just hard work. I hate that they always focus on me, instead of the rest of the team. 

Alex scoffed down the line, making Sid’s nose wrinkle at the burst of sound, even as he grinned at Alex’s next words, “You think you are the chosen one? Next week, maybe. Did you see my goal tonight, Sid? It was beautiful. Magical. I’m chosen one this week.”

Sid chuckled softly, asking more about Alex’s beautiful goal, trying not to think about how nice Alex’s words were, and how warm they made him feel. 

He didn’t succeed very well, but he managed to put it off for a few years, anyway. 


End file.
